


Larkspur and Leaves

by hivecaptor



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Multi, is kavinsky's interior designer edna mode? i guess we'll never know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hivecaptor/pseuds/hivecaptor
Summary: Swan pulled him close and just watched everyone else. He could do that now, just be with the people he loved. He was nearly done with college, all of them were. After this semester, they were done and free to do whatever they pleased.Oh how beautiful it was to have all the time in the world.
Relationships: Jiang/Joseph Kavinsky/Prokopenko/Skov/Swan, Joseph Kavinsky/Prokopenko, Skov/Swan (Raven Cycle)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Larkspur and Leaves

_The sky glowed all calico like phosphor in the sea_

_To the ground we fall, she owns us all_

_Kings and boys and beast_

Swan woke slowly, desperately needing to stretch but not wanting to wake the boy asleep on his chest. He ran his hands through Skov's soft blue hair, watching the colors shift in the late morning light. 

"Morning," Skov said softly.

"Morning, baby."

Skov pulled Swan a little closer, chasing his warmth. He didn't mind Skov's cold hands slipping under his hoodie, purely because they were Skov's hands.

Neither of them seemed to be in a hurry to get up, even though it was Christmas morning. Swan was sure that one of the other boys would come barging in to wake them up soon enough though, so he didn't count on their peaceful morning lasting for very long. He was also vaguely aware of Jiang making breakfast down in the kitchen from the smell of bacon and clatter of pans that filled the house. If K and Proko weren't awake by then, they certainly would be now with all the noise Jiang was making.

"Wanna go help J?" Swan asked.

Skov groaned in response. "He can do it himself, five more minutes?"

"Alright, five more minutes."

Swan wasn't going to object to either of Skov's statements. Jiang was a more than capable chef, with many a season of _Hell's Kitchen_ under his belt and one too many Ina Garten cookbooks. Skov was also such a warm, welcome presence next to it that Swan was perfectly happy to stay in bed with him for a little longer.

The whole 'five more minutes' deal didn't last long, however. As predicted, Swan heard a knock at the door about two minutes later. "Skov? Swan? Are you guys up?"

Skov groaned and rolled off of Swan's chest where he had been lying. "Yeah, yeah, we're up."

"Well come on down then," Kavinsky called from further away. "I already put the stockings downstairs."

Joseph Kavinsky with a Christmas stocking. Now there was a thought.

Swan finally stretched, bones cracking as Skov made a noise of disgust beside him. "Alright," he said, "Just let me brush my teeth first." He ruffled Skov's already sleep-mussed hair before swinging his legs off of the bed and heading for the bathroom. A moment later, Skov got up with another hearty groan and followed behind him.

Their bathroom was certainly a sight to see, all obsidian tiles and dark grey walls courtesy of Kavinsky's uppity French designer. Skov had never liked it but the designer had made a good choice with the countertops in Swan's opinion. Oh how K spoiled them all.

"Pass me the toothpaste?" Skov asked. Swan picked it up from his side of the sink and passed it over. It was another one of Kavinsky's mundane little dream objects and tasted remarkably of blueberries. They brushed their teeth in relative silence, enjoying the morning peace.

"Kiss me now that you don't have morning breath?"

Swan obliged. "Satisfied?" he asked once he had pulled away.

"Eh."

"Alright, let's go open K's stockings then."

"Stockings," Skov murmured with a small smile, shaking his heas at the ridiculousness of the whole idea.

When they arrived in the living room, Prokopenko was sitting cross-legged on the floor, putting one last piece of tape on the box he was holding. He looked up, saw Swan and Skov, and held up the box. "This one's for Jiang."

"Mine are already there, right?" Swan asked. He was sure he had put everyone's presents under the tree but everything was sort of buried under the plethora of items his mom and Proko's grandmother had sent the day before. They always went a little overboard on the holidays, especially now that all of the boys were spending the holidays in one place.

"Mhmm." Proko set the present under the tree with the rest of them.

A couple weeks ago, all of them had spent an evening decorating the tree together, even Proko's grandmother. Swan's mom had been working and apologized by sending a giant box of ornaments that Jiang had a grand time making fun of. They had ended the night talking around the fire with Proko's head in Kavinsky's lap and _The Christmas Prince II : The Royal Wedding_ playing on the television in the background. It was Skov's favorite Christmas movie of all time and Prokopenko's grandmother was very happy with it as well.

Now, the tree was just as beautiful but Swan loved it all the more knowing that his favorite people had helped decorate it. Stacks of gifts sat under it, a couple for each of the boys from eachother and a whole lot from the little family they had. 

Jiang was in the kitchen, so busy with his cookbook and a bowl of batter that he hardly noticed when Swan came up behind him and stole a strawberry from the bowl on the counter.

"Hey!" Jiang protested. His dark hair was tied in a knot clearly meant to keep it out of his way and nothing else.

"Whatcha making, J?"

He sighed. "Waffles, bacon, and scrambled eggs. Your mom sent some Italian soda too and there's some bread in the cabinet you can get out if you want toast."

"Ugh, you spoil us," Swan said, popping another strawberry into his mouth and ignoriang Jiang's hand trying to swat him away. "Where's Kavinsky anyway?"

Jiang shrugged. "Somewhere upstairs, he needed to wrap a couple more things."

"Cool," Swan said and stole a piece of bacon from the tray on the marble island on his way back to the living room.

Prokopenko and Skov had started pulling things out of their stockings, and it looked like Jiang had already opened his as a small stack of candies and smaller gifts was sitting by his usual corner of the couch. 

"Here, this one's yours," Kavinsky said, nudging a silver stocking towards Swan before setting down the gifts he had brought from upstairs. 

"Thanks, K."

Swan began to take things out of the stocking, all small gifts like a notebook and a variety of tinfoil wrapped chocolates, but he loved them nonetheless. They were from one of his boys how could he not? Kavinsky walked over to where Proko was sitting and plopped down beside him, kissing the top of his violently blond head.

It was a shade of platinum more agressive than the usual, as he had bleached it himself a couple weeks ago after a failed attempt at split-dyed green and red. The whole 'festive' thing never worked well for Proko no matter how hard he tried to make it. One year he made a gingerbread house that collapsed in ten minutes and he simply referred to it as "open concept" for the rest of the season.

Even though Swan didn't go to Christmas services (no matter how much his mother urged him to), it was memories like these that made the holiday one of his favorites of all time. The rest of the morning was a blur of wrapping paper, Jiang's food, and the Christmas movies Skov insisted on playing. They had planned quite a bit for later in the day, but for now, everyone seemed content to simply _be_ , and that was something none of them had done in a while.

* * *

The pack stumpled through the door, all at varying levels of intoxication. When making plans, Kavinsky had insisted on taking them all out to the only Italian restaurant in New York that was open on Christmas Day. None of them had protested, and Jiang was too tired to cook again, so good food was good food in all of their eyes. It was nice to be able to celebrate, too. The year was finally over and they were all more tired than they cared to admit. Soon they all would have known eachother longer than they hadn't and it made Swan's heart warm.

He collapsed on one of the plush couches in the living room with Skov beside him, and the rest of the boys settled down around the living room. Proko was making a valiant effort to keep K upright, and eventually gave up, letting his boyfriend slump onto his shoulder.

Skov had done the same, though he was considerably less drunk. His hair had been combed down before dinner but the gel was beginning to loosen, giving him a slightly bedraggled appearance. 

"You tired, Duck?"

Skov nodded and yawned. "S'okay. Don't want to go to bed yet."

Swan pulled him close and just watched everyone else. He could do that now, just be with the people he loved. He was nearly done with college, all of them were. After this semester, they were done and free to do whatever they pleased. 

Oh how beautiful it was to have all the time in the world.

_We were some flicker of truth in the smile of a salesman_

_And we were all buried jewels 'neath the grass in the suburbs_

_And we were all living proof_

**Author's Note:**

> Title and quotes from 'Living Proof' by Gregory Alan Isakov.
> 
> Merry Christmas to all who celebrate! I figured we all needed a little bit of domestic dream pack in our lives so I offer this for your consideration. Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
